Of Wolves and San
by Draco Libro
Summary: This will be a collection of short stories set before the movie that are meant to answer questions I have about San. When did she start wearing clothing? How did she get her ears pierced? Read and find out!
1. Chapter 1

For the first time in many weeks, Moro was happy. Her pups were safe. She had plenty of food. The winter sun had just enough strength to warm her fur. Life was good. Of course, it couldn't last. The sound of clumsy human footfalls reached her and she lifted her head, listening. One human? No, two, both males. One was speaking, his words rough and agitated.

"-a naked girl! This young child, playing with two wolf cubs!"

"Perhaps it was one of the apes?" suggested the second human.

"No! This was a human child! I got a good look before they saw me and fled."

"Strange. I can't imagine wolves raising a human child. Wonder how the poor girl will survive. It's bound to be a hard winter, with all this early snow." The voices moved on. Moro considered pursuing them, then decided against it. Humans, for the most part, were only mild nuisances. Besides, they had given her something to think about. The last two winters, she had kept San in the cave to protect her from the cold. This year, she knew that even her best efforts would not keep her human pup inside. San had become as wild and adventurous as both her brothers put together. Which brought up the problem of clothes.

Moro growled irritably. She had wanted to keep her daughter as wolflike as possible, but without any protection from the cold, San would never survive. Moro stood and sniffed, testing the air for any important scents. This, she reasoned, should be a simple matter to resolve. She would kill a human and take its clothes for San. The wolf god trotted off, following the scent of the two humans.

A week later, Moro began to get frustrated. San had been extremely reluctant to try on the shirt she had brought back. When she finally put it on, the garment had been so large that it had simply slipped off and tangled her, much to the amusement of her brothers. The only option, Moro now saw, was to take the clothes of a human San's age.

Unfortunately, humans rarely brought their cubs into the forest. Moro lowered her head to lap water from the river, but then tensed as a new smell reached her. A soft, milky, definitely human scent… could she have gotten lucky at last?

Moro pricked her ears forward. Yes, there was the unmistakable sound of a child's laughter. The wolf god moved, silent and pale as a ghost, toward the sound. This, she reflected, was almost too easy. One human pup and its mother. The males occasionally presented something of a challenge, at least. Moro paused and peered through the bushes at her prey. The human female had her back turned, gathering some late mushrooms. The child, perhaps a year or two older than San, was busy playing with some brightly colored pebbles.

Moro crouched, feeling her muscles contract in preparation for the leap. A pounce and a quick snap of her jaws, that was all it would take. The child stumbled and fell, scraping its knee on a rocky outcropping. After a moment's shocked silence, it began to wail. The adult human turned at once and picked it up, whispering soothing words. Moro remained frozen, unable to spring. She could not kill this human. How often had she seen San fall and injure herself? How often had she rushed to comfort her? Moro remembered the pain of losing her mate. The thought of losing one of her pups was unimaginable. So how could she inflict that pain on this human mother? Furious with herself, with her soft-hearted unwolflike thinking, Moro let out an involuntary growl. The human female stiffened, staring in her direction. With a sudden flash of inspiration, Moro knew what to do. She stood, showing her fangs in a warning gesture.

"Do not run, human. I could chase you down in an instant if I wanted to," she growled. As she had expected, the human failed to take her advice. After a half second of hesitation, she turned and fled. Moro sprang directly over the human, landing in front of her. The human skidded to a halt and tried to run the other way. Again, Moro blocked her path.

"Listen to me," she said. "And you can save both yourself and your pup." The human froze, her gaze flashing from side to side as she searched for a way out. The child, meanwhile, stared at Moro with a fascination that reminded her far too much of San.

"Doggy!" it said happily. Moro ignored the insult.

"Human," she said. "I need the clothes of your child." The human stared at her. Moro often had difficulty reading human expressions, but right now the human's face clearly conveyed confusion and fear.

"What?" asked the human timidly. "I don't understand."

"I am speaking your language," Moro snapped, her patience starting to wear thin. _It wasn't easy to learn either,_ she thought, before repeating "I need the clothes of your child." Even as she spoke, she was aware of how ridiculous the request sounded. This knowledge did not improve her temper. Perhaps the human sensed this, because rather than asking more questions she began removing her child's clothes. It-he, Moro corrected herself, the scent was male-squirmed in half-hearted protest. Most of his attention remained fixed on the wolf god. The female human finished her task and threw the clothes in Moro's direction. She caught them easily and was about to leave when the human said "Wolf god?" Moro paused. The human now looked very nervous, but she took a deep breath and asked "Is it true that you have a human child? Is that why you need these clothes?"

"My daughter is a wolf," Moro said coldly. "I will allow no one to call her human." The human hesitated before saying "Perhaps I could give you some clothes for when she gets older. My own daughter died recently and her clothes … well, they're just a painful reminder to me now." Moro studied the human. Did she really want to get rid of a bad memory, or was it some sort of trick? Was she feeling pity for San? Perhaps she simply hoped to earn the favor of a god.

"If you choose to do so," Moro said at last, "You can leave the clothes here. I will come back in a few days for them." She turned again to leave, then, impulsively, said "I thank you, human."

Back at the cave, Moro's battle of wills with San began again.

"Put them on," Moro ordered.

"No," San replied stubbornly.

"Do you want to go outside with your brothers?"

"Yes."

"Then put the clothes on."

"But they smell like humans!"

"Yes, and the sooner you put them on, the sooner they'll start to smell like wolves." San glared resentfully at the pile of clothes.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes," Moro answered firmly. "Now." That was easier said than done. San, with a continuous stream of patient suggestions from Moro, struggled with the clothing for half an hour. The arrival of her brothers complicated matters even further. They were full of questions ("Why are you wearing clothes?!") and comments ("They almost make you look human!") that did nothing but annoy and distract San. At last, the task was done. Moro examined her daughter critically. She looked sulky, but the clothes seemed to fit well enough.

"Can I go outside now?" San demanded impatiently.

"Yes," Moro answered.

"Race you!" San's younger brother called as he darted outside.

"No fair! You had a head start!" San leapt onto her older brother's back and the two of them raced out of the cave. Moro lay down and stretched drowsily. After the events of the day, she felt she deserved a little rest. Her thoughts drifted to the human she had spoken to. Perhaps it was a trap, but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that the human had simply recognized her as a fellow mother trying to care for her child. After all, she had felt the same empathy watching the human comfort her son. It surprised her, how similar they both were when it came to caring for their children. After she had seen San's human parents abandon her, she had assumed that all humans cared nothing for their pups, that they would leave them to die without a second thought. Now, she thought that perhaps there was some good in humans after all. An undignified yelp cut into Moro's thoughts.

"Mother! San bit me!" Moro sighed and stood up. The task of motherhood was neverending.


	2. Chapter 2

Moro slipped between the dark trees, her snowy fur gleaming under the hot sun. Long emerald grasses swished around her paws. When necessary, she could walk so softly that the grass blades would not even tremble. But today was not a day for stealth. The humans were growing bolder. She doubted any of them could make it as far as her cave, but there was no denying that the humans had begun to advance further into the forest than they had ever dared to before.

Moro paused to sniff a clump of dark green ferns. The different layers of odors told her that a boar had passed by recently; before that a rabbit had crouched here, and before that- the fur along Moro's back rose like the spines of a dragon. A human had come here. The scent was only hours old. Could the human still be somewhere in the forest? Moro began to track the scent, picking up new details as she went. The human was an adult male, fairly large, who ventured into the forest often, judging by the rich smells of earth and plants that clung to him. Moro displayed her fangs in a silent growl.

In the old days, humans treated the gods and the lands with the proper respect. They understood the power contained in trees and animals, in every aspect of nature. Now, reverence had turned to contempt, worship had become hatred. Humans no longer respected the gods, so the gods no longer helped humans.

The scent of the human grew stronger, and she slowed, making each footstep silent and deliberate. Whatever this human intended to do, he had no right to come so close to her den. Some sixth sense stopped her, forcing her to listen. There! A voice that was heart-wrenching in its familiarity- and fear.

"Mother! Help me!"

San! Moro was running before her daughter's cry had faded. A hot, raging love burned through her veins, the love of a mother who's child is in danger. Anyone who dared to touch her pups, whether they were a boar, a wolf, a human, or the Deer God himself, would pay for it in blood. The smell of the human she had been tracking grew stronger, as did San's scent. A boulder blocked her path. She leapt over it without breaking stride.

"San!" she howled.

"Mother!" Moro ran harder. The human could not be much farther ahead. She crashed through a tangle of thorny bushes and there, directly in front of her, she saw her quarry. The human had San pinned under one arm, while with his other hand he struggled to keep her clawing fingers away from his face. Later, Moro would realize that the human had probably thought he was saving San, protecting a seemingly lost child from the dangers of the forest. At that moment though, all such thoughts were drowned in a sea of pure maternal instinct. Moro lunged. The human dropped San and tried to run. Moro's fangs clamped around his torso and crushed with bone-shattering force. The human barely had time for a final gasp before his eyes dimmed and his blood spilled out, darkening the green of the grass. Moro released the limp body and rushed to San.

"Are you hurt?" she demanded. Instead of answering, San wrapped her arms around Moro's neck and clung tightly to her fur. Her whole body shook. Moro could feel the trembling. The sound of footfalls made her tense, then relax as her sons bounded into view. They skidded to a halt, noticed the dead human, and approached their mother cautiously.

"Where were you?" Moro asked. "You and San were supposed to stay at the cave while I was gone." Her voice contained no accusation, just a blunt, unarguable demand for the truth. Sambro, the eldest, lowered his head guiltily.

"I said there was nothing to do and we would probably have to hunt tomorrow, so we should get some sleep. I guess San waited until Komo and I were asleep, then snuck out. I'm sorry, Mother."

San let go and added "I saw the human and remembered what you told me about them. I tried to attack him, but he grabbed me…" San buried her face in Moro's fur again.

"Should we go back to the cave now?" asked Sambro uncertainly.

"No," Moro replied. An idea had begun to form in her mind. Right now, San looked human. She no longer had any doubt that her daughter was a true wolf, but other humans were likely to see her as one of their own. They might try to take her away, as this human had tried to. She needed to set San apart somehow, mark her as a member of the wolf tribe, so that no human would ever dare to touch her again.

"San," she said. "Get on Sambro's back. We're going to see the Deer God."

Evening hues were spreading across the sky by the time they reached the pool of the Deer God. The light gave the nearby kodamas a faint red-orange tinge. San, who was normally fascinated by the little creatures, stared straight ahead at the Deer God's island.

"When will he come?" she asked.

"Soon," Moro answered. "He returns here every evening." San continued to watch the island, as though expecting the Deer God to appear out of thin air.

"Why can't we cross the pool?" she said.

"The Deer God's island is sacred," Moro explained. "You may only go there if you are badly wounded or in need of a safe haven." Komo's ears pricked up with sudden excitement.

"I smell him! He's coming!" he said eagerly. Moro lifted her head and sniffed. A shiver ran along her body. The Deer God smelled of fresh green buds and soft rotten wood, of milk and sickly sweet carrion- all the aromas of life and death, mixed together to create his own unique scent.

"Where is he?" San demanded impatiently. "I don't see-" She broke off with a startled gasp as the Deer God emerged. He did not turn. He did not even look at them, yet there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the Deer God knew they were there. Moro lowered her head respectfully. San and her brothers quickly did the same. Around them, the kodamas began to click excitedly. Still the Deer God appeared not to notice. He stepped onto the glassy surface of the water and proceeded calmly across it.

"How does he do that?" San whispered curiously.

"It's one of his gifts," Moro told her. The Deer God took a graceful step onto the island. Flowers burst up from the ground as he walked across it, only to wither and fade. When he reached the middle of the island, he turned at last to look at them. As always, Moro wondered why the Deer God's face appeared so similar to a human's. Was it his way of saying that not all humans were evil?

"Deer God," she said. "This is my daughter, San. I need your help to protect her from the humans who have defiled your forest." Moro glanced up at the sky. The first faint stars were visible and a deep, velvet blue had begun to darken the horizon. Soon the Deer God would have to assume his Nightwalker form. When she looked back, she saw that the Deer God was once again crossing the pool. San slid off Sambro's back and walked cautiously to the pool's edge. The Deer God stepped back onto dry land and faced her. For a moment they stood together, both staring intently into the other's eyes. Then the Deer God leaned forward. His lips brushed against San's face, first on her forehead, then once on each cheek. For a moment, Moro thought San was bleeding. Her instincts temporarily overcame her respect for the Deer God and she took a step forward, her fangs bared. Then she realized that the marks on San's face were not blood. Where the Deer God had touched her, three crimson triangles had appeared.

"How did-" Komo began, and then his eyes widened in surprise. At the same moment, Moro felt an odd prickling sensation. Thousands of snowy hairs detached themselves from the three wolves and began to weave together. New fur grew quickly, replacing the missing hairs. It was not painful, at least not for Moro, and she suspected that her sons' yelps were caused more by confusion than anything else. She watched the Deer God closely, but his human-like face was unreadable. The hairs twined around each other, forming a shape of some sort.

_Like a cape_, Moro thought, _but with an extra piece, almost like a tail. _The final hairs joined. For a moment the cloak hung suspended, like snow that had slipped from a tree branch and frozen in midair. Then it fell and the Deer God, with an enigmatic smile, turned to face the rising moon. Looking awestruck, San reached out and hesitantly picked up the cape.

"Let's go," said Moro. The Deer God's neck was lengthening, and his skin was turning a dark, translucent blue. Moro trusted the Deer God, but she feared his death-form, the Nightwalker. San climbed quickly onto Sambro's back, still clutching the wolf-fur cloak. Once they were a safe distance from the Nightwalker, Moro allowed herself to ponder the meaning behind the god's gifts. The three marks would certainly set San apart from the humans of the iron-making town. Even the most foolish of humans could not mistake her for one of them now. Three fang-shaped marks the color of blood… did that mean that San would grow up to be a fierce warrior? She was certainly brave enough. Then again, perhaps she was over-thinking it and the markings were nothing more than the Deer God's way of protecting San as she had asked him to. The cloak would prove useful, especially during the winter. Hopefully, it would also enhance her wolflike appearance. A wolf-girl wearing wolf-fur… But would it be enough? She could not protect San forever. If the humans decided to target her, would she be able to defend herself? Moro glanced back at her daughter.

San rode easily on Sambro's back, her sharp eyes scanning the forest. The cloak, which she had draped over her shoulders, rose and fell as though it were a part of her, smoothly matching her movements. A slight breeze caused her to lift her head and sniff warily, before relaxing again. Despite the darkness, San seemed to notice every leaf that rustled and every mouse that scurried fearfully away from the wolves' approach. The red marks gleamed like fresh blood against her pale skin. Moro's heart filled with love and pride. San's body might have been human, but her beliefs and instincts, thoughts and feelings, all the things that really mattered, were pure wolf. Moro turned away, focusing on the path home. Yes. It would be enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: In the literal English translations, the Forest Spirit is called the Deer God. I prefer this name, so in my stories he will always be referred to as the Deer God. As for the names of San's brothers, the night after my sister and I first watched _Princess Mononoke_, my sister had a dream where the two wolves came to her and said their names were Sambro and Komo. I couldn't think of better names, so those are the ones I used. I apologize for how long this chapter took. The problem with writing from San's POV is that you have to do things her way or else the whole story falls apart, which is why it took me so long to write. It ended up being so long that I decided to split it into two chapters. Part II should be posted soon. Thank you to all the people who read this story, even if you didn't review.

"We will get in so much trouble if Mother finds out," Sambro said for what seemed to San like the hundredth time.

"Don't worry, we'll be back long before she comes looking for us," Komo replied confidently. Sambro shifted uneasily, his claws scraping against loose rocks.

"Still, she's told us plenty of times to never come to the mountain pass without her. And…" Sambro hesitated before saying softly "None of us has ever killed a human before."

"How hard can it be?" San demanded. "They're stupid and weak. Anyways, ever since the human with the fire-weapons came to the iron-making town, there's been a lot of women traveling alone through the passes. Most of them don't carry weapons. They're easy targets." Sambro started to reply, but then he stiffened. He sniffed and turned to face the trail.

"Someone's coming," he said. Quickly the three siblings scrambled for cover, hiding behind the massive boulders that overlooked the pass. For San, each second seemed to limp along with painful slowness. Every muscle in her body felt tense with barely contained excitement. At last, she would be able to avenge the father she had never known, the gods who had been mercilessly slaughtered, all the injustices committed by humans. She could imagine the fight already: the ugly, sneering face of the human, the sudden fear at the sight of San and her brothers, the evil voice extinguished in a dying gasp. Abandoning caution, she peered over the rock, searching for a glimpse of her enemy.

Around a bend in the trail, a flash of movement appeared. The human who came into view was younger than she had expected - barely an adult, in human terms. Nervous eyes flicked warily from side to side, making San wonder if the woman had heard stories about the dangers of the mountain pass. She searched for arrogance, greed, cruelty, any of the emotions she had come to associate with humans. The only one she found was fear.

Somewhere far back in a part of San's mind that was still semi-human, a long forgotten feeling stirred: sympathy. Angrily, she shook it off. Even if this human wasn't a vicious killer (_and they're all killers_, she reminded herself), once she joined the humans of the iron-making place she would learn to use the fire-weapons and become one more enemy. Again San examined the human, looking for any obvious weak points.

_Try to cripple them first, _she thought, remembering her mother's instructions. _A human who can't run is a dead human. Save the neck for the final blow. That's the soft spot on any prey. _Her gaze flicked over the human's face, taking in large eyes, thin face, medium-length black hair- San leaned forward, momentarily distracted from her examination. The human was now close enough for her to see an odd necklace glinting around her neck. It appeared to be made of fangs strung on a thick cord. Even more interesting were the earrings the woman wore: large, silver disks that glittered in the sunlight.

"Those are _pretty_," she whispered. Komo yawned. He had never shared his sister's fascination with "pretty" things.

"Wait for it," Sambro muttered, ignoring his siblings. The human advanced farther up the trail.

"One," he counted. "Two…three…now!" Sambro and Komo leapt simultaneously, landing on either side of the human. San jumped after them and landed facing their prey. The woman stumbled back, her eyes wide with panic.

"Now you die, human," Komo growled. The woman continued to retreat. San recognized her tense movements and ragged breathing from numerous hunts- the characteristics of cornered prey. Sambro lunged, his teeth missing the human by inches. As San and Komo closed in, the human backed towards the edge of the cliff. Komo sprang forward and San realized what was going to happen an instant before it did. In an attempt to evade Komo, the human stepped back too far and fell. Her brief cry ended in a painful _thud_ and a loud_ crack_.

San and her brothers hesitated, exchanging uncertain looks. This had not been part of their plan. Slowly, almost timidly, they approached the edge and peered down. The human lay sprawled on a ledge several feet below. San couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. Apparently Komo was thinking the same thing because he asked "Do you think it's dead?"

"Only one way to find out," Sambro answered. He glanced at San in the falsely innocent way she had come to associate with dares and bruises.

"I'm not going down to check," she said flatly. "Do it yourself."

"The ledge is too small for me or Komo," Sambro replied. "You're the only one who can do it, San." San scowled. Sambro would have to do better than that to convince her.

"You're scared," accused Komo.

"I am not!"

"Yes you are. Scared of a puny little human!"

"Didn't you want that necklace the human had?" Sambro asked.

"And the earrings," Komo added. "You said they were '_pretty_.'" There was no way for San to continue the argument without losing face. If she continued to refuse, her brothers would tease her relentlessly. And she had to admit that however unwolflike it was, she did want those earrings. Maybe the necklace too. She shrugged carelessly.

"Fine. I bet you two would be too afraid to go down even if the ledge was big enough." She quickly began her climb down the cliff edge before Sambro or Komo could retaliate. The stone was rough and jagged, filled with cracks that snaked along the cliff like interwoven tree roots. It was easy enough to find foot holds, but the harsh rocks left scrapes on her hands. Twice she lost her balance and slid a few feet before managing to halt her fall. Both times her brother's yelled encouragement and advice to her.

"You can always stop and climb back up if you can't make it all the way," Sambro offered.

"I've made it this far, haven't I?" San retorted. Glancing down, she saw with surprise that she had almost reached the ledge. She paused, allowing herself a brief rest, before completing the descent. Up close, she noticed again how young the woman was. How long did humans live? She only knew that their lifespans were far shorter than a god's. Her mother always became uneasy when she started asking questions about humans. Curiosity led San closer, until she could have touched the human. The silver earrings glittered invitingly. She reached for them- but then jerked back as the human's eyes opened.

"What's wrong?" Sambro called. "Is it still alive?" San looked up at him, then down at the human. Dark, pleading eyes met her gaze. It would be simple, she told herself, to answer "Yes" and push the woman off the ledge. That fall would certainly kill her. She could go back home and tell her mother how she had personally killed a human. Mother would be angry at first and scold her for going to the mountain pass without her, but later, wouldn't she praise San for her courage?

If she had turned back at that point to answer Sambro, perhaps she would have killed the human. But she turned instead to look at the human one final time. This time, she saw pain as well as fear in those dark eyes. She remembered the _crack _as the woman fell, and as she crouched on the pretense of checking for signs of life, she saw that the woman's right leg was broken.

"It's dead," she called up to her brothers.

"Then hurry up with taking that human junk you were so interested in," Komo yelled back. A little clumsily, San removed the necklace and earrings.

"I'll try to come back," she whispered, without quite knowing why she said it, before beginning the climb back up the cliff. The journey was slower this time because she was holding one of the earrings in each hand. The necklace she had wrapped around her wrist. By the time she reached the top, Sambro looked decidedly nervous.

"Let's get home as quickly as possible," he said as San climbed onto his back.

"I wish we could tell Mother about this," Komo said. "It would prove that we're old enough to go on raids with her."

"If she knew we'd been here alone, she wouldn't let us out of her sight for weeks," Sambro replied.

"Yeah, but we didn't get hurt or anything, did we?" Their conversation continued for most of the way to the cave. San, lost in thoughts about the human, barely registered their words until Sambro asked "Are you all right, San? You're very quiet."

"What?" said San, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"You can think?" Komo teased. San growled and threatened to get him eaten by the boar god Nago, which made both her brothers laugh and lightened the mood considerably.

That night, San lay awake listening to the steady, rhythmic breathing of her family. The gentle sound contrasted sharply with the jumble of feelings inside her. She knew that humans were evil as surely as she knew that the sun set in the west and that Moro was her mother. Yet somehow, she felt this certainty waver each time she remembered the desperate, pleading look the human had given her. Letting her live was one thing, but actively helping a human would be the worst kind of betrayal. So why was she thinking about going back?

A terrible suspicion kept trying to sneak into her mind. Each time she pushed it out, it found a way to slink back in, until at last she was forced to face it. What if the reason she hadn't killed the human was because she herself was human? She rejected the idea at once. She was pure wolf. Her mother had assured her of that each time she asked. When she was younger, she used to think that she had been born a wolf but, after doing something really bad, she had been turned into a human as punishment. Now, she knew that she had been born to human parents, but why should that matter? She was what she chose to be.

San scowled and stood, careful not to wake her brothers. Moro always slept apart from them, but she moved with extra caution, just in case. She strode out onto the wide ledge that overlooked the forest, then sat down to think. If only there was someone she could talk to! Moro, Sambro, and Komo would all agree that she should have simply killed the human. There had to be someone else. Down in the forest, the kodamas began to click excitedly.

_The Nightwalker must be coming_, she thought. Of course! The Nightwalker! She stood, scanning the forest eagerly. He would know what to do. The Nightwalker could answer any question. In the distance, the Nightwalker's shimmering, deep blue form became visible. San hesitated, glancing back at the cave. She couldn't risk calling out to him without waking her family.

Closing her eyes, she thought as hard as she could _Nightwalker! I need your help! _She opened her eyes. The Nightwalker was moving away! San repeated her call. The Nightwalker paused. San's heart beat faster as the god slowly approached the ledge. The Nightwalker took life. If he was angry with her for sparing the human, he could kill her with a single touch. The Nightwalker stopped beside the ledge, watching her expectantly.

_Now or never, _San told herself. She took a deep breath and said "I was in the mountain pass with my brothers. We attacked a human and she fell off the cliff. I went to see if she had survived and-" she stopped. It felt as though the words were rising up to choke her. How could she explain her actions? How could she explain why she had let a human live?

"I told my brothers she was dead, but she wasn't. Somehow I just- I couldn't kill her. And I know it's wrong, but I want to go back to help her. I don't know what I should do." The Nightwalker raised his enormous, strangely delicate-looking hand. San resisted the urge to back away. The death god's gentle fingers brushed her face. New strength and certainty flowed into her. Again she saw the silent plea for help in the woman's eyes. The Nightwalker smiled at her. She smiled back and nodded.

The journey to the mountain pass took longer on foot than it had riding Sambro. By the time San reached the place where the human had fallen, the crescent moon had traveled halfway across the sky. Trying not to worry about how she would get back home by morning, she peered down at the ledge. The human was sitting with her back against the cliff, facing the forest.

_Should I say something or just climb down? _San wondered. _Probably should say something, otherwise she'll panic. _

"Hey, human!" she called. The woman jerked and twisted around to stare up at her. Before she could think about it any more, San lowered herself over the cliff edge and began the climb down once again. She tried to focus on finding the safest path down, rather than think about what she was doing.

_The Nightwalker said it was the right thing to do. This human must be good…well, maybe not good, but she's not evil, not like the humans in the iron-making place. Maybe she's not even going there; maybe she's going to some other human place._

San dropped the last few feet, landing on all fours with practiced grace. She stood up and found herself once again locking eyes with the human. She searched frantically for something to say, trying to remember the human words her mother had taught her. The only thing she could think of was "Um… hello." The woman's gaze flicked up to the cliff path. San almost turned to look, before she realized what the human was expecting to see.

"My brothers aren't here," she said. Confusion entered the human's eyes.

"Your brothers?" she asked, speaking for the first time. With a painful jolt, San understood that to the woman, she appeared human. While the animals recognized her as a wolf, some humans might still see her as one of their own kind. Revulsion at the idea made her response harsher than she had intended.

"I'm a wolf. The wolves who were with me earlier are my brothers. You want my help or not?"

"Why are you helping me?" The question caught San off-guard. She hadn't planned on holding a conversation with the human. Unable to think of a response, she asked instead "Can you climb up on your own?" The human stood shakily, leaning against the cliff for support. She shook her head.

"Not with my leg broken. I already tried," she said. San gave the mountain side a quick examination. By her standards, it was a fairly easy climb. If the human couldn't handle it, she wasn't sure how much she could help. Well, if they couldn't go up the cliff…She crouched, staring at the rocky wall beneath the ledge. Cracks of varying thickness wove along it, providing easy hand holds. Farther down, she could see a deer trail winding along the cliff face. Climbing down, she reasoned, was much easier than climbing up. It wouldn't matter as much if the human slipped. She stood up confidently.

"We'll climb down," she said. The human looked dubiously at the sheer rock.

"Isn't there a safer way?" she asked. San growled with irritation. They were wasting time! She still had to return to the cave when this was all over.

"I'll go first," she said. "I'll help you." The human looked ready to launch another protest, so she quickly slid over the edge and began making her way down. After an instant of hesitation, the woman followed. San directed her, advising her on where to place her feet and where loose rocks made the journey treacherous. All the while she was wrestling with a difficult fact. Guiding the human down would not be enough. To ensure her safety, she would have to guide her all the way to the human town. Letting her travel alone with a broken leg would leave her too vulnerable to attacks from the other forest gods. San reached the bottom and stepped aside to let the human descend.

"A few more steps," she said encouragingly. The human slipped a little before finally reaching the end of the climb. Both of them now stood on the deer path. San pulled in a deep breath and then, resolutely, released it.

"You're going to the iron-making place?" she asked. The human nodded. San's determination wavered. The humans there were evil. They were vicious murderers who killed for pleasure and wanted to destroy the whole forest. What if this human became just like them?

_The Nightwalker told me to help her. This must be the right thing to do. _

"I'll take you there," she said. Grateful relief filled the human's eyes, followed almost at once by uncertainty.

"What about the other gods?" she asked. "Won't they try to stop you?"

"They won't question a member of the wolf tribe," San replied, which was half true. Although all the gods respected wolves, they had always been suspicious of her.

"Let's go," she said. She took a few steps down the path, then stopped, annoyed with herself. The human couldn't keep up with her leg broken. She turned back, allowed the human to put her arm over her shoulders for support, then started down the trail again.

She hated being so close to a human. It was impossible to walk with her normal wolf grace while half-carrying this clumsy human female. And that smell! She had rarely been close enough to notice the smell of humans, but now it blocked out all scents. It was similar to the faintly sour odor of the apes, she decided, but more pungent, lacking the soft aroma of dirt and plants that surrounded the forest creatures. She was almost relieved when the human spoke again; it provided some distraction.

"Who are you? Are you one of the gods or a spirit?" San knew better than to reveal her name.

"I'm Moro's daughter and a member of the wolf clan," she answered proudly.

"Moro?" the human repeated. Fear had crept back into her voice. "Isn't she the queen of the wolf gods? The one who's killed hundreds of humans?"

"She doesn't rule all the wolves," San replied. "Just our pack." She wondered if her mother really had killed hundreds of humans. What would she think of her attempt to save this human's life? She forced the thought out of her head in time to hear "So you're a mononoke hime."

"What?" she asked. Those were human words that she didn't recognize.

"A spirit princess. Mononokes are dangerous forest spirits." _Mononoke hime._ San liked the sound of it. She liked the idea of being a wild, courageous spirit, defending the forest from invaders.

"How old are you anyways?" the woman asked. "Nine? Ten?"

"I don't know." She had never thought to ask. How old had she been when her human parents had abandoned her? The fact that she couldn't remember them meant that she must have been very young. She hoped the human wouldn't ask any more questions like that. She didn't want to think about her human parents.

The path descended abruptly into the forest. Trees that appeared solid black in the dim moonlight closed ranks around them. Mice rustled and squeaked, falling silent when an owl hooted loudly. San felt no trace of fear. She couldn't see as well in the dark as her family could, but her knowledge of the forest was so good she could have traveled it blindfolded. The human, on the other hand, seemed almost as terrified as when Sambro and Komo had attacked her. She clung tightly to San, flinching at each animal cry.

_Are all humans this cowardly? _San wondered. No, they couldn't be. The new human, the one with the fire-weapons, was no coward. She endured the human's behavior as long as she could, before finally snapping "Why did you come here if you were so scared?"

"I had to," the human answered.

"No you didn't," said San irritably. "You had a home, didn't you?"

"Yes, but I couldn't stay there. Not after I heard about Lady Eboshi and Irontown." San's limited patience was rapidly wearing thin.

"Why not?" she half-snarled.

"Because I'm … I mean, I was a…" The human looked away. "You're too young to understand," she mumbled. San could have sworn she heard her own temper shatter. She had wasted her time to rescue a human who was a pathetic coward and couldn't even explain why she had come here!

"You were what?" she demanded savagely. The woman jerked away at her tone and almost fell. San made no attempt to help her. She felt a kind of vicious pleasure at the renewed fear evident in the human's face. She was a wolf. Humans should fear her. She ignored the quiet voice that whispered _She's hurt and tired. You didn't have to yell at her. _

"I- I was- " the human stammered. She hesitated, then forced herself to say "Do you know what the word 'prostitute' means?"

"No," said San flatly.

"Well it's …I…" her voice trailed off feebly. At last she said "Irontown is the only place I would ever be accepted. Anywhere else, I would be cursed and hated … or worse." San wasn't sure what she meant by "or worse," but the quiet voice was growing louder. She had, more or less, promised to help this human reach the iron-place. Was a little argument really worth leaving her to fend for herself? Before this internal debate could go any farther, a familiar, musky odor reached her. She whirled, teeth bared threateningly.

"What's wrong?" the human asked. San did not reply. She sniffed the air, confirming her suspicion. Switching back to the animal language, she growled "I know you're there. Come out!"


	4. Chapter 4

1st Author's Note: My sister suggested that I write one of these stories as though San is telling it to someone (probably Ashitaka). If you would like me to do this, just say so in a review. Also, do all Miyazaki fans know about the new movie _Tales from Earthsea_? It's directed by Hayao Miyazaki's son Goro Miyazaki, and from the commercials I've seen, it looks really good. I'm planning to go see it and recommend that all other fans do the same.

For a moment she thought her demand would go unanswered. Then, slowly, a creature emerged. Beady eyes peered at her from a narrow, gray-and-black face. Coarse, slate-colored fur bristled warily. The animal's striped tail swished slowly back and forth.

"Toruko," San said, relaxing slightly. Toruko reared briefly onto his hind legs, examining her. He dropped back onto all fours, his head roughly level with her waist.

"Greetings, daughter of Moro," he said, his voice a raspy purr. "Forgive me for being nosy, but I must ask: what are you doing with that human? Surely you do not intend to abandon the forest and your family for a human life?"

"Of course not," she snapped.

"Then you will not object to my taking care of the human?" he asked, edging closer. "I could use some fresh meat." San stepped in front of the woman.

"She's mine. You'll have to hunt somewhere else."

"You seemed in no hurry to kill it," Toruko remarked slyly. "May I ask what you intend to do with it?" How could she answer without appearing a traitor?

"That's wolf business," she said shortly.

"Is it? I believe that a human in the forest, even a wounded one, is the business of every animal."

"I'm taking her out of the forest," San retorted.

"But you are not killing it," countered Toruko. "Why not? They have killed countless wolves."

"The Nightwalker told me not to kill her." Toruko gave a chittering, yipping laugh.

"Wolf girl?" said the human in a frightened whisper. "What's going on?"

"The Nightwalker told you not to kill a human?" Toruko chuckled. "You will need a better story than that, San." He strode forward confidently. San stood her ground.

"A tanuki may not defy on order from a wolf," she reminded him. "We are older, stronger gods."

"That would be true," he agreed. "If you were a wolf. To me, it looks as though Moro has finally been proven wrong about her human daughter. It looks as though you have chosen to flee to the human town." Rage flared into life within San, so suddenly and powerfully she could taste it- a harsh, metallic flavor, like blood.

"You have insulted my mother and the honor of the wolf tribe," she said. Her voice was strangely calm, like a thin layer of rock covering a river of molten lava.

"I challenge you to a fight, Toruko. If you win, you may kill the human. If I win, you take back what you said about me and my family and allow us to go to the human town."

"I do not want to fight you, San," said Toruko softly. "You are only a pup." San threw a quick glance at the human.

"We're going to fight," she explained. "Don't interfere."

"You can't fight that animal!" protested the human.

"Watch me." Without warning, she turned and leapt at Toruko. He twisted away a second too late. She slammed into him, wrapped her arms around his throat, and sank her teeth into the loose skin on his neck. He writhed and snarled, trying to shake her off. When that failed, he dropped to the ground and rolled. San's head struck a rock, and the resulting explosion of pain forced her to let go. For a few agonizing seconds she lay there, battling dizziness and nausea.

_I can't quit. I have to keep fighting._

She stood and lunged at Toruko again. He slashed her leg, leaving thin, bloody lines. She jumped back and circled warily. Toruko did the same, his ears pressed flat against his skull and his fangs bared in warning. He crouched, as though about to leap. San recognized this trick; her brothers had often used it on her. Instead of ducking, she charged.

Toruko tried to dodge, but she seized one of his hind legs and yanked him down. Blood trickled into her eye from the cut on her head. She lifted her hand reflexively to wipe it away, and Toruko tore free of her grasp. Before he could attack again, she flung herself on top of him and bit down into his ear. He yelped and tried to roll again. This time she held on, grabbing his muzzle to prevent him from biting her. She pushed against him, using all of her strength to force him to the ground.

Releasing her grip on his ear, she snarled "Submit! I am stronger, Toruko." He made a final, halfhearted slash at her, his sides heaving. Then Toruko twisted to reveal the pale fur on his stomach, a gesture of surrender. San let go and took a few steps away from him.

"Take back what you said about me and my family," she ordered. Toruko stood slowly.

"I apologize," he said. "Moro did the right thing when she adopted you. You are a true wolf." He looked at her, almost admiringly. "Only a wolf could have fought like that." Without another word, he turned and vanished into the forest. Gingerly, she touched the scrape on her head. Her hand came away red with blood.

"Ow," she said, the pain finally cutting through her adrenaline rush. The human limped forward anxiously.

"You're hurt," she said. San would have liked to tell her that she was stating the obvious, but she didn't know how to say it in human words.

"I'm fine," she said, checking the scratches on her leg. They seemed fairly shallow.

"What was that thing you fought?" the human asked.

"A tanuki. He wanted to kill you, so I had to fight him." The tanukis were a dying race, she remembered. Her mother said that they had once been larger than fully grown humans, although never as big as wolves. Many were now born small and mute, animals instead of animal gods. Toruko was the largest one left.

"I'm sorry," said the human. "If it wasn't for me, you'd never have gotten hurt." That was perfectly true, so San decided not to say anything. The sky had lightened to a pale purple color, and she suddenly realized how tired she was. Still, they had nearly reached the human town. She could rest afterwards.

"Come on," she said. "We're almost there." Hesitantly, the human put her arm over San's shoulders again.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked. San did not bother to reply. She just started walking.

Outside the gate of the town, she paused. The rising sun made everything seem faded, all the colors washed out. The wooden wall appeared painted in shades of gray and silver; the dirt path looked white, rather than pale brown. She could never think of the human town as being good or welcoming, not with the stench of smoke and molten metal hanging over it, but that morning the sight filled her with relief.

"That's Irontown?" the human asked, as though such a thing was too good to be possible. San nodded tiredly. The energy spike from fighting Toruko had completely worn off by now.

"You'll have to go the rest of the way alone," she said. "I can't go near the human town." The human gave her a puzzled look.

"I'm a wolf. They'd kill me as soon as I got within range," she explained.

"But you're only a child," protested the woman.

"I'm still a wolf, and they know it." The human looked longingly towards the gate, before returning her gaze to San. She hesitated, as though there was something she wanted to say.

"What?" San asked.

"It's just … I never thanked you for saving my life." San tilted her head to one side in a gesture she had learned from foxes. There was another unknown human word.

"I don't know all of your human language. What is 'thanked'?" she said curiously.

"It's a way of showing that you're grateful to someone. When a person helps you, you say 'arigato' to show that you appreciate what they did."

_Arigato_. Thank you. San felt a sudden rush of shame.

"It was my fault you got hurt at the cliff," she said. It had been her idea.

"But you came back to save me. And you protected me from the tanuki," the woman pointed out. Before San could think up a response for this, the human added "There's one more thing. You know the necklace and earrings you took from me?" San had almost forgotten about them.

"You want those back?" she asked. "I can leave them near the human town tomorrow."

"No, it's not that," said the human quickly. "I meant that I wanted you to keep them, as a thank you for saving me." Once again, San realized that she had no idea how to say what she felt in human words.

"Is there a word humans use when someone says 'thank you' to them?" she asked at last. The human nodded.

"Do itashimashte." You're welcome.

"Do itashimashte," San repeated, fumbling a little with the unfamiliar phrase. The human smiled, reminding her briefly of the Nightwalker's smile.

"Goodbye, Princess Mononoke," she said.

"Goodbye," San answered. She watched the human limp slowly towards the iron-making town, knowing that they would probably never see each other again. Exhaustion crept back, wrapping itself around her. She ignored it, looking on as the human neared the vast gate.

It was foolish, of course, to feel any sort of attachment to someone she had known for less than a day.

A guard called out, ordering the woman to halt. They spoke, but an ill-timed wind carried their words away from San.

_She never once complained or asked me to slow down. Broken bones hurt, but she dealt with it and kept going. I didn't know humans could be like that. _

The gate heaved open. The human entered. It creaked shut.

_I never even asked her name._

San turned away from the human town, back towards the forest. She only walked a short way in before stopping and curling up under some bushes. She felt tired, far too tired to complete the journey back to the cave. A few hours of rest, that was all she needed. She could think up a story to explain her absence later. Of course, she would have to explain her injuries too… Warm, comforting sleep embraced her. She sighed, releasing her worries for the moment.

_I'll think about it later._

The first thing San felt when she woke was sunlight. Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to puzzle this out. Mother never let her sleep past dawn, and this felt like full, late afternoon sunlight. But wait a moment- she hadn't gone to sleep in the den. She had fallen asleep in the forest after the human- she jerked awake and sat up, blinking confusedly.

"She's awake!" Komo announced. San stared around, gradually growing more disoriented. She was on the ledge outside the cave, with both her brothers sitting beside her. Questions rushed through her mind. Unable to decide on which to ask first, she settled with "What…?"

"The Deer God and Toruko brought you back," began Sambro. Komo nipped his tail.

"I wanna tell it!" he said petulantly.

"Fine," grumbled Sambro. "Go ahead." Komo's plumy tail waved happily.

"We woke up and saw that you were gone," he said. "Mother went out to look for you and told me and Sambro to wait here. Then the Deer God appeared and convinced her to wait. He left and we waited for a while, and then he showed up again with Toruko, who was carrying you. Toruko said you'd gotten into a fight with some of the tanukis who had lost the ability to speak. He said they were attacking an injured fox and he helped you fight them off, but one of them knocked you down and you hit your head on a rock. That's why he carried you back."

_Did the Deer God convince Toruko to help me? Or did Toruko decide to carry me back before he spoke with the Deer God?_

"And the Deer God left those," Sambro added, gesturing. Next to San lay the necklace of fangs and the silver earrings.

_I hid those when we got back yesterday. How did he know where to look? _

"Mother's out right now making sure none of the tanukis trespassed on our territory," Komo said, answering what would have been her next question. She picked up the necklace and, after admiring it for a moment, put it on. Then she held up the earrings and gave them a thorough examination.

"How do you put these things on?" she asked.

"Mother said humans poke holes in their ears with a needle, then put the hooks through the holes," Sambro explained.

"Humans are weird," said Komo. He paused, before saying innocently, "You know, we could do it for you." San looked at him, automatically suspicious at his tone of voice.

"Do what for me?"

"Pierce your ears for you, so you can wear those earrings." Seeing her expression, he added quickly "It wouldn't hurt much. We'd bite down so quick and careful you'd hardly feel it." She glanced at Sambro, usually the more trustworthy of her brothers. He nodded in agreement with Komo's words.

"We'll be careful. Really," he said. Perhaps because she was still tired, San decided to believe him.

"All right," she agreed, still with some reluctance. As her brothers took up positions on either side of her, she thought back to her encounter with the human.

_Maybe they're not all evil after all. That one certainly wasn't a killer like the others I've heard about. They must be more like animals: some good and some bad._

"Ready?" Sambro asked.

"Ready," she answered.

_I forgive you, human, for what your kind has done. I can't forgive the others… but you are no longer my enemy._

Sambro and Komo bit down.

"_Ow!" _she yelled. They leapt away as she whirled to face them.

"You said I'd barely feel it! You call that careful?" she demanded.

"His idea!" Sambro yelped, and fled. San growled as she tackled Komo. She could forgive some humans, perhaps. Her brothers were a different matter.

2nd Author's Note: Tanukis are a species of wild dog found in some parts of Asia. Westerners usually call them badgers, raccoons, or raccoon dogs. There are several scenes in _Princess Mononoke _where you see animals that look like raccoons; those are tanukis. According to Japanese folklore, they are tricksters and shapeshifters. Since the ones in the movie seem to be normal animals, I decided to assume that the tanuki gods went extinct before the movie takes place. And if San seems too forgiving of humans here, that's going to change in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

Toruko's body lay stretched out under the camphor tree, cold and stiff. His blank eyes stared at nothing, yet they seemed to pierce San's soul, filling her with shock, horror, grief… and guilt.

_You could have saved me. _San backed away, shaking her head frantically.

"There was nothing I could have done," she pleaded.

_You did not even try. More of us are dying every day. What have you done to stop it?_

"I do try. I've always fought to protect the forest."

_If you are trying, then you are not trying hard enough! _Toruko lifted his head and San recoiled. His mouth hung open slackly, revealing rotting fangs and the dull brown of dried blood. His eyes, so bright and keen in life, had faded to the milky opaqueness of a fish's stomach.

_You have cowered in the cave while your mother risks her life to fight the humans! You know that we are being killed, you know that the forests are burning, and yet you do nothing to stop it! _Toruko stood and staggered towards her on rigid, twisted legs. Fresh blood flowed from his wounds, drenching his matted fur. From his decaying mouth a single word hissed out, rank with the stench of death.

_Human! _

San woke with a gasp. Next to her, Sambro whined softly and twitched in his sleep. She moved away from him, shivering a little in the cold night air. That prickling feeling was in her eyes again. She rubbed it away angrily. Wolves did not cry. She had not understood it the first time she wept, years ago for some forgotten reason. Her mother had reassured her, explained that some animals cried to show sadness, that it was normal.

_By "some animals," she meant humans. It's not normal, not for wolves. It doesn't solve anything. There's something wrong with me. I'm unnatural, I'm weak, I'm- _But she stopped herself before she could think the cursed word. She shook her head hard enough to make herself dizzy, but the dream images would not leave. They forced her to think back, to remember…

Three days ago, returning from a successful hunt, Mother had paused suddenly. She sniffed the air and San copied her, but was unable to pick up any unusual scents. Mother, however, tensed and said "This way." San and her brothers followed unquestioningly.

They had found Toruko's body where the humans had left it, stiff and bloody underneath the otherwise unspoiled canopy of trees. San knew even before she ran forward and touched his cold, still form that he was dead. A living animal could never lie in that grotesque position. Even a god could not survive losing that much blood. Her brothers drew back uncertainly as Mother approached. She nuzzled his body gently.

"No bullet holes," she observed, calm and focused as always. "That's some comfort. If they had been carrying guns, he might have been turned into a demon." San and her brothers shuddered. They had not yet seen one of the demons for themselves, but they had seen the paths of poisoned land that the former gods left behind them.

"He was the last of the tanuki gods," Mother continued. "Setoru, Nigihayami, Teshima… all the others are already dead." She backed away, and San was startled to see painful, open grief in her mother's dark eyes. None of them had been close friends with Toruko. Then Mother said "We must sing a deathsong, to mark the passing of another clan," and she realized that her mother was mourning the most recent of many losses for the animals- and yet another victory for the humans.

Mother tilted her head back, the weak autumn sunlight cascading down her beautiful fur, and began to howl. San, Sambro, and Komo joined in, their young voices supported by their mother's sorrowful cry. The forest did not fall silent in response; it pulsed with too much life to achieve a true silence, but the screeches, yelps, and other sounds that usually filled it quieted. Together, the land and the animals mourned the death of another race of gods.

All this San might have been able to accept and move on from, if not for the words her mother had spoken as they returned to their cave.

"It was like that when Kurai died," Mother had said softly. San did not need to look at her brothers to know that they were suddenly as alert as she was. Kurai was the name of their father. He had been killed by humans before Sambro and Komo were old enough to remember him and before San had been adopted. Mother seldom spoke about him, and they had learned to stop asking questions.

"He went out to hunt and never returned. I waited longer than I should have, not wanting to leave Sambro and Komo. By the time I found him, it was too late. There was nothing I could do except sing his deathsong."

That was what had created the fear that had spawned her nightmare. She had been taught for as long as she could remember how dangerous humans were. She knew how powerful the enemy she had chosen to fight was. But never before had she considered the possibility that the humans might actually win. Each time one of the most ancient trees was cut down or one of the gods was killed, she had raged against the humans and vowed revenge. Never once had it occurred to her that for every human who's death she gloried in, an animal had been brought closer to extinction. If her mother, in all her wisdom and strength, had been unable to save her mate Kurai, then how could any of them save the forest?

_We might lose. _San stood up and began to pace angrily. They could not lose! Not after they had all fought for so hard and so long- wolves, boars, apes, even the timid deer.

_If we did lose…_She knew what would happen. The forest would burn. The rivers would be choked with filth from the humans' mining and finally cease to flow. The gods would be slaughtered. Pups would be killed in their dens before they were old enough to fight.

_What would they do to me? _She hated herself for this selfish thought but found she couldn't help pursuing it. Would they kill and skin her as they would with the other wolves? Or would they see her as a human traitor and do something worse-no, she had to stop thinking like that. What about the other human, the one who's life she had saved three years ago? Would that human, once so frightened and grateful to her, now kill her on sight? Had she already been killed by one of the other gods?

"San?" She stopped and turned around. Mother's steady gaze caught and held her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," San mumbled, knowing her mother would see through the lie.

"San, I know when something's bothering you." San remained silent, trying to put her thoughts into words. At last she whispered, "I'm scared." She had never admitted to being frightened before.

"Of what?" Mother stood and drew closer to her. San did not want to voice her thoughts, which seemed feeble and cowardly in the presence of her mother's warm, reassuring strength. Only when the silence between them began to feel unbearable with the weight of unspoken words did she finally ask, "Do you ever think that, maybe… maybe the humans will win?" Outside the cave, cicadas chirped endlessly. A fox yipped. A few kodamas clicked half-heartedly. Inside the cave, the only sound was that of breathing: slow and steady from her brothers, louder and rougher from her mother, quick and shallow from herself. When Mother finally spoke, it was without reproach, but with some other, harder to define emotion.

"It's not about winning anymore, San. The humans have advanced and grown stronger, while we gods have remained static and unchanging. The world can never go back to the way it was. Perhaps it shouldn't go back. It would be a lie, after all, to say that the gods were always kind and beneficent towards humans." San leaned in closer to her mother, listening.

"The goal now is to keep fighting. We still have a chance to win. The humans might simply destroy themselves, as they have before. But the important thing is to continue fighting. If we give up, then it won't matter whether the humans wipe themselves out or not; we will have lost. Do you understand, San?" She did not fully understand, not then, but she nodded anyways.

"Then go back to sleep," Mother said softly. Obediently, she returned to Sambro's side and curled up once more. It took a while for her to fall back asleep, but once she did, she discovered that her mother's words had not killed the nightmares. They had just been pushed farther away.

The next morning, San found herself torn between two conflicting instincts; absolute faith in her mother and a deep-seated need to express the thoughts that continued to haunt her. It didn't take long for her family to notice.

"What's wrong with you today?" Komo asked. "You're as jumpy as a young deer."

"Don't try to deny it," Sambro added as she opened her mouth. "You've never been a good liar." Mother said nothing; she simply watched and waited expectantly. San gave in. Lifting her head defiantly, she said, "I want to go on a raid." Her mother's eyes narrowed.

"I've told you before, San. You're too young."

"No I'm not," San answered, refusing to back down. "I can hunt. I can fight. What makes me unready to go on a raid against the humans?"

"You are impulsive and inexperienced," Mother replied flatly.

"How can I gain any experience if you never let me fight?" she demanded.

"She's right," said Komo. "We can't learn how to defeat the humans by hiding in the cave all the time." San threw a glance at Sambro, hoping he would intervene. He met her gaze, then said, "You should let us fight. The forest is our home too." Mother's wise yellow eyes traveled over the three of them, searching for some hesitation or uncertainty. At last, she inclined her head in acceptance.

"Very well." She walked to the cave entrance and paused, waiting for them to follow her. When they did, she trotted out and down the path into the trees.

"We might as well attack today," she said. "Some of the humans will probably be outside the protection of the town, digging for gun-metal." San and her brothers walked obediently behind their mother, worried that showing too much excitement would cause her to change her mind. Mentally, San rejoiced.

_At last I can fight them! I can avenge Toruko and Father and all the other gods. And this time, I won't make a mistake. I shouldn't have helped that human last time; it wasn't the kind of thing a wolf should do._

She felt a twinge of remorse at this last thought. The human had truly seemed good. She hadn't acted like a killer, the way the others did. But if San wanted to prove herself to her mother, then she couldn't afford to make exceptions. San pulled herself out of these thoughts in time to notice that Sambro and Komo had quickened their pace. She started to speed up, then changed her mind and leaped onto Sambro's back instead. He gave her a look that suggested simultaneous annoyance and resignation. She smirked smugly back at him.

Whenever San was excited, all her senses seemed to sharpen. Right now, with the prospect of a fight approaching, she could identify every sound that drifted through the forest, from the rustle of a slight breeze to a fox's distant cry. She imagined she could even hear her own heartbeat. She could see the faint imprints of animal tracks along the forest floor, hoofprints and pawprints and the slender scratches of bird claws. Beneath her hands, every hair on Sambro's back felt separate and distinct, the coarse outer fur and the soft layer close to his skin. She inhaled deeply, savoring the smells of the forest, her forest, the forest she had sworn to protect. Mixed in with the familiar scents of the trees was a smell she recognized, more from her mother's descriptions than personal experience: hot, thick, and faintly oily. Boars. Mother said nothing, but San noted the way her ears swiveled to catch any sound of an approach. They continued on in silence, the boars' scent growing steadily stronger. San scanned the thick undergrowth warily. Wolves and boars respected each other, but respect did not guarantee safety. At last, she saw them. The herd consisted of only five boars. A large, chestnut colored male with magnificent tusks led the way followed by two smaller boars and a pair of dark gray females. The leader paused. Mother stopped as well, facing him with a relaxed, purposeful confidence.

"Good hunting to you, Moro of the wolf tribe," said the lead boar.

"And to you, Nago of the boar tribe," Mother replied.

_Nago! _San and her brothers exchanged swift, excited glances. According to the stories they had heard, Nago was one of the most powerful gods in the forest. He had led repeated attacks against the humans, always emerging triumphantly.

"What are you and your pups doing so far from your territory?" Nago asked.

"I'm taking them on a raid." San noticed one of the male boars looking at her curiously. She bared her teeth and growled at him. Nago glanced at her, and she thought she saw a flicker of amusement in his expression.

"I see," he said, turning back to Mother. "Perhaps we could accompany you."

"Why would you choose to fight with us?" Mother asked, a note of challenge in her voice.

"We were going to the human town anyways." Nago paused, then continued in a more subdued tone, "They killed my mate Shikana two days ago." An awkward, painful silence ensued.

"I am sorry," Mother said at last. "I know how it feels to lose a loved one. Of course you may join us." Nago took up a position beside her and the other boars filed into place behind him. One of the female boars ended up next to San and Sambro. No sooner had they started to move again than she began asking questions.

"Are you the one the humans call Princess Mononoke?" she demanded.

"Yes," San answered.

"I just call her annoying little sister," Komo added.

"Ignore him," Sambro advised. "He ate a poisonous mushroom when he was little, and he's never been quite right since."

"Who's side are you on?" Komo demanded.

"San's, for now. She's in the perfect position to pull my ears if I don't stick up for her."

"I don't need you to stick up for me," San protested. "I can take care of myself."

"I know how you feel," said the boar. "I've got an older brother too. My name is Okori, by the way." San introduced herself and her brothers. A few more questions from Okori and some sarcastic comments from Komo were enough to send the four young ones into a lengthy conversation. San quickly discovered that she liked Okori. The female boar was relaxed and friendly, and unlike many of the other gods San had encountered, she didn't question San's place as a member of the wolf clan. Best of all, Okori's hatred of humans dispelled her lingering doubts about joining the raid.

"You can't trust humans at all," Okori explained when the subject came up. "The old boars say humans used to worship us and that all this fighting is because so many humans have chosen to follow a new religion that has no respect for the gods. I think if humans ever worshipped us, it was out of fear, not respect. Humans are filled with nothing but fear and hatred."

"They live in packs, like us," objected Sambro. "I'm sure they care about each other, at least."

"They don't," Okori replied. "I saw a group of human refugees once, fleeing a town destroyed by other humans. When one of them became too weak to go on, the others didn't even slow down. They just kept going and left their comrade to die. That's how selfish humans are." By the time they reached the human town, San felt reassured and confident. Together, the boars and wolves paused on a ridge overlooking the mines where countless humans labored to tear their gun-metal from the earth's flesh. They looked like vultures ripping chunks of meat from the carcass of a dying animal, an image reinforced by the disgusting smell overhanging the area and the bare patches of reddish earth on the hillside.

"Before we attack, Nago, I would like a word with my pups," Mother said abruptly.

"As you wish," Nago replied indifferently.

"San, Sambro, Komo," said Mother, a hard edge to her voice. "Look at me." All three of them met their mother's eyes nervously.

"I want to remind you how serious this is. This isn't hunting, where the prey poses little threat to you. It's certainly not playing, like in your games. If you're clumsy or reckless, _they will kill you._ Follow my directions and do not take risks. I know that if one of you treats this as just another game, the other two will do likewise. Remember what you are facing. I do not want this day to end with another deathsong, and none of you want to live with the knowledge that someone died because of your mistake." Mother held eye contact with them for a moment longer, then returned her gaze to the mines. San, who felt her confidence wavering again, glanced at Okori.

"Don't worry," said the young boar quietly. "Humans are pretty easy to kill."

"Enough talk," snorted one of the males. "Let's fight!"

"The boar clan will lead the charge," Nago announced. He raised his enormous, curving tusks to the sky and released a blasting, shrieking cry that was more scream than squeal. Below them, humans turned, and although San was too far away to see their faces, she imagined their terrified expressions. Nago and his boars surged downwards, still trumpeting their war cries.

"Follow me!" Mother ordered, and the four of them leaped after the boars. San clung tightly to her brother's fur, hearing the clang of the warning gong and the confused rush of human voices. A strange hissing sound filled the air, and she ducked instinctively as several arrows flew by. She looked up in time to see a human, eyes wide with terror, but resolutely standing his ground, hurl a spear at her. Once again, she acted on instinct. Her battle-numbed mind barely conscious of her actions, she seized the spear as it flew towards her, twisting its point away from her chest. Ahead of her, one of the male boars grunted and stumbled as several arrows pierced his side. With a deafening roar Nago leaped to his defense, heedless of the arrows that now protruded from his own hide. The sharp smell of blood joined the reek of sweat, dirt, fire, and metal.

"San!" shouted Okori. Both San and Sambro whipped towards her as a human aimed his gun straight at them. Komo slammed into the man, knocking the weapon out of his hands. Sambro wheeled to charge at the fallen enemy, who lunged for his gun. Komo grabbed and crushed it in his powerful jaws. The three siblings closed in, and it was so much like hunting, so much like trapping a wounded prey animal so that the killing blow could be dealt, that when San leaned over and plunged her spear into the human's chest, she forgot for a moment what she was killing. Then she made the mistake of looking into the human's eyes. In the broken fragment of time that they stared at each other, San registered every detail of the human's face. How his lips moved, trying to form words. How blood (his or someone else's?) had left a scarlet trail on his cheek. How his eyes, which were a deep shade of brown, were already growing dull, although death could not erase his expression of shock.

_He didn't think I would really kill him. _

Something struck her right shoulder. She still clutched the spear in both hands, so there was no way for her to grab hold of Sambro's fur. She fell, hearing the enraged snarls of her brothers and the furious battle cries of the boars. Something soft and wet broke her fall. It was the body of the human she had just killed, soaked with his own blood. She scrambled off him, and as she did so a burst of pain filled her shoulder. Looking at it, she saw a dagger, its blade buried in her arm.

"Get down! NOW!" Years of obeying her mother's voice caused San to drop to the ground without hesitation. A rush of searing gunfire exploded over her. She covered her ears against the sound, but was too slow to block out Komo's agonized cry. No sooner had the barrage stopped than she leaped to her feet again, searching wildly for her brother. Sambro stood beside her, shaken but unhurt. Okori limped towards them. Nago and the other boars were locked in combat with the arrow-wielding humans, while Mother tore through the ranks of the gun-humans. A short distance away from this bloody spectacle lay Komo, his pale fur stained with the darkness of gore and mud. San ran towards him, heedless of the hot liquid that now flowed freely from her injured shoulder, the spear grasped in one hand. Before she could reach him, the ground burst apart in front of her. Again, she was knocked to the ground. Lifting her head, she saw for the first time her attacker. A woman stood at the head of the gun-humans, coolly reloading her weapon. San had never seen humans take orders from a female before, but when this woman commanded "Fire!" the other humans fired without hesitation. There was no need for her to dodge their bullets this time, because they weren't aiming at her. They were aiming at her mother. Before San could run to her, Okori blocked her path.

"Moro can take care of herself! We have to get Komo out of here!" Okori shouted over the roar of battle. At the same time, the hard voice of the gun woman rang out.

"Kill the wolf cub! Fire!" As San sprinted desperately towards her brother, a human stepped forward and aimed her gun with shaking hands.

"NO!" San screamed, as though that single word would be enough to protect Komo. At the sound of her voice, the human turned, pointing her gun at her instead, and San realized that she recognized the woman.

_I guided you. I helped you, back at the mountain pass. I fought Toruko to protect you._

With a squeal of rage, Okori leaped between San and the human. San, now mere feet from her brother, did not pause to think about her friend's actions. As another wave of gunshots ripped through the air, she dropped onto all fours and crawled the rest of the way. She reached out and laid a hand on Komo's heaving chest. Sambro, still miraculously unscathed, growled "Get down!" More shots exploded, but there seemed to be fewer of them this time. The humans were running out of either ammunition or soldiers. Sambro seized Komo by the loose skin on the back of his neck and began dragging him away from the battle. San looked back for Okori and felt a sick, painful jolt, as though she had been shot.

"Okori…" A river of red gushed from the boar's chest, collecting in a thick puddle on the ground. Before full comprehension could set in, Mother appeared.

"Sambro, take care of San," she ordered. "I'll get Komo out of here."

"Okori," San repeated, numb with shock.

"I'll be fine," Okori gasped. "You… go on." Sambro grabbed San's shirt in his teeth and flung her onto his back. The boars, she noticed dimly, were retreating as well. She looked down at her hands, and was surprised to see both the spear and the knife clutched there.

They fled only a short distance, stopping at the edge of the forest. Okori came to a staggering halt at the rear. The other boars started to move towards her, but Nago ordered sharply, "Don't!" San had slid off Sambro's back intending to rush to Komo first, but something in Nago's voice made her pause. Okori trembled all over, her eyes wide in terror.

"Fire," she choked. "It hurts. Someone… help me…" Thick, dark tendrils like black worms began to emerge from her skin.

"A demon," Mother growled. "San, back away from her!" The darkness seeped across Okori, and a desperate cry tore itself from her.

"Help-" The word transformed into an incoherent squeal of agonized rage. The demon that had been Okori lunged at San. Again she acted without conscious thought, bringing the spear up towards the boar's throat. The maddened demon flung itself onto the spear point. A crimson spray splashed onto San's face; she released the weapon and jerked back in revulsion. The demon collapsed, the worms shriveling and sliding off as life drained away in a steady stream of red. The fading eyes that stared at San were unmistakably Okori's.

"San!" At the harsh note in her mother's voice, San turned away from the bloody corpse. Mother and Sambro stood over Komo, who lay on the ground whimpering, his left leg extended awkwardly. Blood flowed thickly from his shoulder.

"San, if we don't remove the bullet from him, he may become a demon as well." Mother's voice had the hard, forced calm that was the closest she ever came to sounding afraid.

"Sambro and I cannot bite or lick the bullet out. You must do it."

_Don't think about Okori, not now. Help your brother first._ She was vaguely aware of Nago speaking to Mother, of the other boars nuzzling Okori in a final farewell. The knife and spear lay forgotten on the ground while her trembling hands parted Komo's fur. From the blood, she knew the bullet must have gone in deep. She pressed her mouth to the wound and immediately tasted the hot, harsh flavor. She spat out the mouthful of blood and repeated the process.

_I won't let him die. Not him too._ Her hands fumbled at the wound. She touched hard, wet metal. The bullet nearly slipped away, but she seized it and, shutting out Komo's yelp of pain, pulled it out.

"Well done, San," said Mother softly. San stepped back and watched as she began gently helping Komo to stand.

_Komo's hurt. Okori's dead. I killed her-no, they killed her. What I killed wasn't Okori anymore; it was a demon created by them._

"San," said Mother. "We're going home now. You should take the knife and spear." The boars were vanishing back into the forest, their heads lowered solemnly. San stared at the weapons in revulsion.

"I don't want them. They're human tools."

"They're human tools that you can use," Mother replied simply. Reluctantly, she picked them up. Sambro offered to let her ride on his back, but she declined. There was no point, since they had to walk slowly due to Komo's injury. She continued to think about the raid, matching her thoughts to the rhythm of her steps.

_It's humans that have done all this. It's their fault. We can live with them, but they can't live without killing us. We have no choice but to fight back._

Two faces surfaced in her mind: the gun-woman and the human who's life she had once saved.

_You killed Okori. You tried to kill me. You almost killed my brother. I will never forgive you for that._

There could be no compromising with murderers. If it was a choice between her family's lives and theirs, she would choose her family.

_I've killed one of you now. I did it once and I can do it again._

She would kill them with their own tools. She would use the human knife and the human spear with her human hands.

_I don't want anyone else to die like Kurai and Toruko and Okori. I want to protect everyone._

If the only way to protect everyone was to fight and kill the humans, so be it.

_I will protect them._

Author's Note: I'm really, really, really sorry I took so long to update. And (more bad news) this is the last chapter. Yes, it's possible that at some point I may become inspired and start it up again, but not likely. Also, in the future, expect most of my updates to be during summer, when I actually have free time. Thank you for reading.


End file.
